


Sunsets

by KittensAndRage



Series: little things [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 16:39:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4187148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittensAndRage/pseuds/KittensAndRage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock’s eyes are like a mountain trickle, shimmering in the sun. They glimmer with happiness when he looks at John, and it always stops the doctor in his tracks, this pure joy that is there for a mere second at a time. It’s unique. It’s special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunsets

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about sunsets during one of my exams and then this happened. It's a study of character, but i still don't know if it's more about Sherlock or John.  
> previously posted on tumblr

Sherlock Holmes?

You ask what is Sherlock Holmes like?

Well. If you ask people, you’ll get mostly similar responses. Tall. Dark. Rude and obnoxious. Meticulously kept hair and strange eyes.

Typical.

But if you ask John Watson?

John Watson will tell you about his eyes. Sherlock’s eyes are like a mountain trickle, shimmering in the sun. They glimmer with happiness when he looks at John, and it always stops the doctor in his tracks, this pure joy that is there for a mere second at a time. It’s unique. It’s special. John treasures these moments, just as much as he treasures the look of them when Sherlock solves a particularly difficult puzzle. They’re darkened with excitement, like stormy sky just before rain, this weird color of steel, ash, and bruise, all at once, with added electricity buzzing in the air. They widen adorably with surprise and delight every time John plants a quick kiss on his cheek or the top of his head before he goes out.

John Watson will tell you about his fingers. Long, strong, delicate fingers that caress his scalp when they watch telly together. Palms with scars, burned with acid and scratched with God knows what, and yet so soft. White, milky skin, that looks almost translucent, always making John wanting to taste it. Fingers that know John’s secrets, know where to stroke, and where to push, and where to tickle. 

And his mouth? First thing people notice is that Sherlock talks a lot. But John? Oh, John notices his plush lips that look like cut out of dusty pink velvet, and the way he’s drawn towards them like a moth to a flame. It’s ridiculous how much he likes kissing those lips, tasting like honey, coffee, and rain. When he thinks about something puzzling, he bits his lower lip and it’s enticing to look at, so John always looks, at the glint of white teeth peeking out, and the reddened lip, and Initially Sherlock asked what was he looking at, but he doesn’t anymore. When he catches him, he just smiles fondly.

But the most unique thing about Sherlock is his voice. Many people described it as dark chocolate, silk sheets, or sin. John doesn’t think it’s that. For him, it’s bottled sunset. All vibrant and deep, like intense colors from dark copper through turmeric to powder rose that melts with the bluish sky above, Sherlock’s voice exactly like that, all subdued by the creeping twilight. Definite, pronounced, but not sharp, no, it’s softer than more people think. It’s darker when he talks about crime, and blurred when he whispers John’s name, those barely audible moments at the crack of dawn. Or maybe John is biased.

John Watson loves sunsets.


End file.
